“…”

The Player couldn’t hide his shock.

Frowning deeply as if he couldn’t comprehend what was happening, he alternated his gaze between Scarab and the sword.

“What the fuck…”

He muttered, gripping and releasing the sword repeatedly. His mind seemed to be spinning wildly, as he bit down hard on his lower lip.

The shock of having his swordsmanship stolen was written all over his face.

Scarab didn’t miss the opening. Channeling mana throughout his body, he began to heal the wounds he had sustained.

First, the bleeding stopped. The bullet wounds filled in, and the cuts from blades knit themselves back together.

The Player’s expression twisted even further at the overwhelming regenerative power on display.

While Scarab finished his recovery, he took a long, deep breath.

Whoosh—

As his body stabilized, his mana realigned, and the milky-white aura around his sword grew even stronger, illuminating the sewer.

It was undeniably superior to the Player’s sword aura.

“Let’s start over, Player.”

His golden eyes cooled as he gauged the distance between them. Close enough to drive a blade into his neck in a single step using footwork techniques.

Kill him.

The murderous intent in his heart whispered as he watched the Player subtly step backward.

Tear his limbs apart. Gut him, spill his entrails, and stomp on the corpse.

Just like he had done to Scarab’s family—swiftly and ruthlessly.

Though Scarab agreed inwardly, he didn’t let go of his reason. This was the time to keep his blade cold.

Opportunities like this didn’t come often.

If he let the Player go now, he’d be forced into a long, exhausting chase.

So…

I will kill him here.

With that resolve, Scarab launched himself off the sewer floor.

Tap!

Mana-laden footwork propelled him forward, closing the gap between him and the Player in an instant.

The sword, wreathed in milky-white aura, sliced through the air of the sewer.

Clang!

Sword met sword, and their auras clashed, trembling as if they might shatter. It was the Player who was losing ground.

This wasn’t just about strength. Every time their identical techniques clashed, Scarab’s blade carved out a trajectory a step ahead.

For the Player, it was infuriating. The very method he had used to overwhelm Scarab earlier was now being turned against him.

But unlike the Player, who had been focused on toying with his opponent, Scarab had only one goal.

To kill.

The moment the Player left an opening, Scarab’s sword sliced into his thigh.

A deep gash tore through his right leg. While the bone narrowly avoided being severed, the loss of balance was inevitable.

Scarab seized the moment, bringing his blade upward in a fierce strike.

The Player reflexively raised his sword to block, but that only sealed his fate.

Scarab’s true aim from the beginning had been his hand.

Splurt!

The Player’s right hand, which had been gripping the sword, was severed, and blood gushed like a fountain.

The milky-white aura reflected in his eyes, now a mix of shock and pain.

Without hesitation, Scarab drove his sword straight for the Player’s neck.

But in that instant, the Player’s left hand pulled a magic stone from thin air.

Flash!

The stone erupted with light, enveloping the Player’s body.

Before the brilliance of Tear of the Mountain could fully dissipate, the teleportation magic surged through the air, dragging the Player beyond the sewer.

Scarab didn’t falter. Activating his footwork technique, he gave chase.

Outpacing teleportation itself was impossible, but…

It’s enough to block his next move.

His prediction was accurate. By the time the Player’s teleportation ended, Scarab was less than 10 meters away.

“Fuck.”

The Player, seeing Scarab charge at him again, hastily pulled out another magic stone to activate teleportation.

Flash!

Again, and again.

The Player repeated the teleportation endlessly, but he couldn’t buy himself enough time to stop the bleeding or prepare his next move.

“You crazy bastard!”

It was now a battle of endurance—whether Scarab’s stamina would run out first or the Player’s magic stones would be exhausted.

Grinding his teeth, the Player cursed.

Magic stones were precious beyond measure, and now they were being wasted on this nonsense.

If I just had 30 seconds…

He fumed at the waste of his magic stones, desperately wracking his brain for a solution.

But no matter how much he thought, he couldn’t find an answer.

In all the countless guides and strategies stored in his mind, there wasn’t a single mention of an opponent who could copy techniques in real time.

What do I do? How…

As the Player prepared to activate another magic stone,

Shkk!

An ice spear flew from deeper within the sewer, impaling his left hand.

“Aargh!”

The magic stone fell to the ground, and Scarab, his face full of hatred and his sword glowing with milky-white light, closed in.

Instinctively, the Player squeezed his eyes shut.

“Graaaah!”

At that moment, a Fiend leapt from the side of the sewer, throwing itself at Scarab.

Slash!

Scarab instantly cleaved the Fiend in two, but it was only the beginning.

Aaah—ooooh!

From the shadows, a swarm of zombies and Fiends charged toward Scarab.

Dozens, maybe more, filling the sewer in an instant.

Seeing the monstrous horde, the Player felt a surge of elation.

I’m alive.

He smashed the ice spear on his hand against the ground, shattering it.

The pain was excruciating, but the adrenaline and fear of death kept him moving.

Clink, clink!

After breaking enough of the ice, he managed to move his fingers and retrieved a shimmering red potion from his inventory.

The moment he brought it to his lips, the comet-like brilliance erupted from Scarab’s blade.

 

Shortly after Yeomyeong and the Player vanished deeper into the sewer,

Seongnyeo turned to face Seti, who was dragging Jeon Yunseong behind her.

“Did… did you kill him?”

Jeon Yunseong’s limp body dangled lifelessly, gripped by the back of his neck. His death was apparent to anyone who saw him.

Seongnyeo seemed slightly shaken at the thought of her classmate being killed, but Seti’s reaction was indifferent.

“He’s not dead.”

“But he really looks dead…?”

“Unless I pull out his spine, he won’t die from this.”

To prove her point, Seti threw Jeon Yunseong into a corner of the sewer.

When Seongnyeo stepped closer to check his condition, he was indeed still breathing. Not only that, but his bullet wounds were slowly regenerating.

“His regeneration is… what the…”

Compared to Yeomyeong, who could withstand a dragon’s attack, it was inferior, but still far beyond what could be considered normal.

He wasn’t like this back during the Superhuman Olympia.

Should I just put another bullet in him before he wakes up?

While Seongnyeo fiddled with her revolver, entertaining the thought, Seti hoisted a massive hammer over her shoulder. It was as tall as a dwarf, nearly reaching a human’s chest.

“I’m heading out to help Yeomyeong. You stay here and keep guard.”

“What? You’re going alone?”

“…It’s a waste for multiple people to go in such a cramped sewer.”

As Seti was about to sprint in the direction Yeomyeong had disappeared, Seongnyeo grabbed the hem of her skirt.

“…I’ll go too.”

“No.”

The refusal was sharp as a blade. Seongnyeo hesitated, looking between Seti, Soemiri, and Jeon Yunseong.

Seti urged her, voice firm.

“Don’t act on emotion. I’m the only one who can keep up with Yeomyeong’s speed. You’ll be more useful staying here and guarding them—”

“…Jeon Yunseong is something she can guard on her own.”

Seongnyeo gestured at Soemiri, who had been staring silently into the distance. Finally, Soemiri turned her head.

“I’d rather not.”

“…What?”

“I don’t want to be left here alone with him.”

Seongnyeo muttered, “Oh, Five Gods above,” brushing her white hair back.

“Why not? Everyone with a brain knows he likes you.”

She didn’t say it out loud, but she could almost hear the unspoken, So stop wagging your tail at Yeomyeong and buzz off.

Soemiri gave a bitter smile.

“Even so, Americans are just…”

“…What’s wrong with Americans? Are you anti-American?”

“Yes, of course.”

“…?”

“I’m an elf.”

At the unexpected confession, Seongnyeo’s eye patch twitched. She was probably frowning under it.

“An… elf? An actual elf?”

Instead of answering, Soemiri tucked her hair behind her ear. The illusion magic hiding her ears faded, revealing their true form.

Long, pointed ears—completely different from those of humans.

“You… you’re serious?”

While Seongnyeo struggled to process it, Soemiri pulled a small wand from her coat and added,

“And neither of you need to go to Yeomyeong.”

“…”

“There’s something more important.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

What could possibly be more important than Yeomyeong right now?

“Over there.”

“Over there?”

“Try sensing the mana.”

Soemiri pointed in the opposite direction from where Yeomyeong had gone, beyond the corpses of zombies and Fiends piling up in the sewer.

Facing the ominous darkness, Seongnyeo instinctively spread her mana outward, expanding her senses.

Closing her eyes and focusing, she detected something—a strange mana.

It was pure, completely different from the twisted mana filling the sewer.

She had felt this mana before. Where had she sensed it?

While Seongnyeo dug through her memory, Seti spoke up.

“…A dimensional gate?”

At that, Seongnyeo realized it resembled the mana from a dimensional gate—like the one she had felt when crossing over to Earth.

But why would there be a dimensional gate here…?

The question surfaced in her mind, and suddenly, she recalled a fragment of her foresight.

Yeomyeong and Seti, being sucked into a mysterious dimensional gate.

She had thought that future had already changed. But what if that vision was pointing to this very moment?

Feeling a creeping unease, Seongnyeo looked at Seti.

Seti had stopped mid-step, glaring into the dark where the mana emanated.

After a brief pause, she turned to Soemiri.

“…You can check on Yeomyeong’s condition, can’t you?”

Soemiri smiled faintly.

“Is it that obvious?”

“…”

What’s that supposed to mean? Seongnyeo blinked, struggling to follow the conversation, but Seti continued.

“Right now… how is he? Do I—no, do we need to help him?”

“No. He doesn’t need our help.”

The certainty in her voice made Seti let out a small sigh. She grabbed Jeon Yunseong’s limp body by the collar once again.

“Then… our task is clear. Let’s go to the dimensional gate.”